by Pinki Parks
Chapter 10
Tristan shoved the last stack of papers into a portfolio and pushed it up against the stack of portfolios that were scheduled to be delivered tomorrow. He exhaled, and leaned back against his chair, allowing himself the first real break that he’d had all day. Tristan’s week had been a hectic jumble of finals and escaping over to Ava’s place for a nightcap.
His boss, Sophia, came strutting around the corner. Tristan launched his seat forward and placed his hands-on top of the desk as if he’d been working away. Sophia smiled, the smudged eyeliner underneath her eyes highlighted the intensity of her stare. She pressed her elbows on top of Tristan’s desk and said, “How are you? Do you need any schedule changes this week?”
Tristan shook his head. If it were up to him, he’d work through Sunday dinner too. “You sure you don’t need me to stay until six?”
Sophia turned her head towards the analog clock that hung on the other wall and shook her head. “No, no. I’m going to get out of here. Be sure to get those portfolios out when you come in tomorrow, though.” She tapped her palm against the surface of the desk, “Do you want to grab a drink?” Sophia turned on her heel, a thin folder was tucked between her arm and side. She was in her late twenties and has had her eyes on Tristan the day he started.
Tristan grinned and shock his head. “I’ve got studying to do.” He would always use school as an excuse. Sophia made Tristan feel like a piece of meat. He was flattered but was never turned on by those types of come-ons. His mind turned to Ava. Ava was the kind of woman that women like Sophia aspired to be, at least that’s what he thought. Sophia was a workhorse, worked on weekends, and responded to work related emails within seconds. He’d seen Ava do all the same things with a sense of ease that Sophia had yet to master, despite being fifteen years Ava’s senior. He supposed that was partly because they were in entirely different industries. Maybe the art world moved differently than the real estate world, and Sophia was always trying to catch up.
He pushed his chair back and stretched his arms over his head. He smiled to himself as his shirt brushed against one of the fresh scratches on his chest. Ava invited him over just after nine the night before, and worked out all of her tension across chest, back, and shoulders. Tristan sighed as his phone vibrated against his thigh. He closed his eyes briefly and reached into his pocket.
“Knew it,” he muttered as he read a text from Anna, Making spaghetti for dinner tonight. No worries, didn’t invite any pretty girls over.
Tristan chuckled and his fingers hovered above the keyboard as another message came in, However, would love to have one of your girlfriends from school over for Sunday dinner one of these days.
“It’s my mom. I’ve got to get going.”
“See you tomorrow.” Sophia kept up a pleasantry after every rejection from Tristan thinking that one day she would wear him down.
“Have a good night, Sophia.”
Tristan shoved his phone into his pocket and shrugged his coat over his shoulders. He moved towards the door and double-checked that the door to the gallery was locked. Tristan shoved his hands into his pockets and walked down the sidewalk, which had recently had a bag of salt tossed on top of it. Snow mounds lined both sides of the street, and he drew his shoulders together as he moved towards the subway.
He wished that he could tell Anna that only had he found someone as she’d insisted, but he found a woman, not one of the girls on campus. He’d managed to romance one of the most successful women in the city, and maybe even in the country. Ava, from her serious disposition and piercing gaze to her full breasts and shapely hips, was every bit a woman. When he tried to imagine how it would feel to run his hand along the bony legs of the girls that he attended class with, he only felt deflated.
Tristan jogged down the steps and stepped onto his train just as the doors opened. He leaned against a row of seats while he waited out the fifteen-minute ride. Tristan knew that his mother and father would think that he was full of it if he didn’t bring Ava around. He tried to picture how that conversation might look, asking his unofficial billionaire girlfriend to come enjoy a home cooked Italian meal in Sunnyside while she fielded questions from Anna.
Although, two months ago, I didn’t think that she’d let me into her bed. Before he knew it, the subway doors split open at his stop. He joined the sea of people that stepped off the train and moved up the steps to the streets. Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets and kept his eyes forward as he hustled towards the end of the street. He jogged up the steps of his parents’ duplex and pressed his finger against the call box, “It’s me.”
His father’s voice came through the speaker, “Valé, come upstairs.”
The door buzzed, and he felt the burn of someone’s eyes on him. He turned his head and Justine was leaning against the porch on her side of the duplex. She raised her hand and waved once she realized that she had his attention. Justine reached into her back pocket and retrieved a carton of cigarettes. She smacked the box against her palm and said, “How are you?”
Her voice sounded like she’d spent the whole afternoon yelling. Knowing Justine, it’s likely that a new guy had come into her life and promptly exited. Tristan grinned and waved, “Good, you?”
He braced himself for a response as Justine lit the end of her cigarette. She took a long drag and her bright pink lips formed an “o” as she exhaled. Plumes of smoke hung in the air and Justine shrugged. “Same old shit.”
“Right? Well… I better head upstairs.” Tristan pulled the door open and hurried up the steps before Justine could get into what kind of ‘shit’ was going on this last week. He made it inside of his parent’s apartment and shut the door behind him. He was greeted by the sight of the back of the couch.
“What the hell?” He whispered. The living room had been rearranged again, and the flat screen was pressed against the wall. The frayed back of the couch, still ruined from years previous when Tristan had begged for a cat, was an eyesore. Mom probably hasn’t found anything yet.
Tristan put on his brightest smile as he strolled into the kitchen. Mateo’s back was pressed against the stove with a wine glass dangling from his fingertips. Anna’s sleeves were rolled up around her arms as she worked a wooden spoon into her spaghetti pot.
“Hey Mom, Dad.” He approached his Mom and gave her a peck on the cheek. “How’s it going?”
Anna narrowed her eyes and shrugged. “Ask Mat.”
Over the years, his parents had always made an effort to not fight in front of him. However, he’d learned that when Anna began referring to Mateo as ‘Mat’, that they were barely speaking.
Tristan sent a questioning glance over to his father and said, “What’s up?”
Mateo rolled his eyes and said, “Anna thinks it should be a crime that I’m not concerned with how many girls you’re boning at the university.”
The wooden spoon connected with the oven top and Anna threw her hands into the air. “No, that’s not what I was talking about,” she turned her pleading gaze onto Tristan’s eyes and said, “I was just saying that I worry about you, and I poke around in your business because I’m concerned, like a parent should be,” she spat the word parent as if left a bad taste in her mouth.
Tristan opened his mouth to reply but Mateo interjected, “And I said that I’m not less of a concerned parent because I’m not worried about what you do in your personal life. Bah! A man’s gotta be a man at some point, right? He’s gotta have his own secrets?”
Anna snorted and said, “I don’t wanna give him that idea, Mat.”
Irritation bubbled up in Tristan’s chest, and he walked over to the counter and pulled a few bowls down. His hip bumped against her mother’s, and she yelped as he began spooning spaghetti into bowls. “Are you trying to kill us with salt? It has enough salt,” he muttered.
Anna grumbled but moved over to the table and sat across from Mateo. Mateo chuckled to himself as he refilled his wine glass and passe
d another filled glass over to Anna. Anna wrapped her fingers around the stem of the wine glass and nodded before taking a sip.
Tristan shook his head as he carried the bowls over to the table. He placed one in front of everyone and said, “Orale, comamos.”
Mateo chuckled and said, “You’ve got the boy using his second language now, he doesn’t know how else to get through to us.”
Anna rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever,” she stabbed her fork into her bowl and took a big bite. Her eyes widened as she turned to Tristan and said, “Oh! I meant to tell you, I’m taking a class at the library, just some computer literacy stuff. Spreadsheets are still beyond me.”
“Yeah?” Tristan asked, he spooned a bit of spaghetti into his mouth. Anna nodded and reached into her back pocket. She whipped out her phone and her social media app was open. “Look, I met her at class, and she’s the best. She’s taking a gap year in between her junior year. Always helps me when I have questions. Isn’t she cute?”
Tristan had a new subject hot on his tongue, but he raised his eyes and examined the photo in front of him. The girl in front of him was very much so a girl, despite the fact that she was a bit older than him. Her eyes were bright blue, and her lips were twisted into a smile that was equal parts dorky and equal parts sexy. Pale blonde hair fell over her shoulders and the name Hailey Addison was printed in big, blocky letters. Tristan squinted and said, “Yeah, she is cute. Her name’s Hailey?”
Anna sent a knowing glance over to Mateo and said, “Yes, would you like for me to invite her to dinner next Sunday?”
“I actually have-” He closed his mouth, then opened it, then shut it again. Tristan took a bite of pasta and said, “I’m focused on school right now.” They’ll never believe me about Ava. He pictured Ava being the one to sit across from his parents. I don’t think Ava would ever sit across from them. She’s still convinced this age thing is a real problem. Although they had been seeing each other frequently, most of their time was spent in the bedroom.
Anna frowned and said, “Are you sure? She’s adorable?”
“Anna, everyone agrees that she’s cute, but Tristan didn’t work so hard to get that scholarship so that he could piss it away chasing after cute girls.”
What about billionaire women? Tristan had lost more than a few study sessions to late night at Ava’s over the past week or two. Tristan pointed his fork at Mateo and said, “He’s got the right idea, Mom.”
Anna shrugged and said, “Fine. I’m sending you her number in case you wanna take her for coffee if you change your mind.” His phone dinged a moment later and he saw a photo of Hailey and the first few digits of her cell through the preview window.
Tristan slipped his phone into his back pocket and said, “Let’s just eat, huh?”
***
Tristan slipped his coat over his shoulders and delivered a kiss to Anna’s cheek. She leaned against the doorframe and said, “Let me know if you need anything, okay? College students are going crazy all across the country.”
“Anna, he’s fine.” Mateo said. He squeezed Tristan’s shoulder and said, “Be careful on your way home, te amo.”
“Te amo.” Tristan said, he opened the door and jogged down the steps. When he stepped into the cold whirlwind outside, Justine still sat on the stoop, this time, wrapped in a thick coat.
“Night, Justine.” He said, as he moved towards the subway. His pocket vibrated and he sighed. “This better not be Mom.” He slowed his footsteps and peered at the screen, Ava’s name flashed across the screen in capital letters. He grinned and pressed the phone to his ear, “Hey.”
“Hey,” she breathed. “Are you busy? Do you have class tomorrow?”
He could hear the clink of pots and pans in the background. Is she cooking tomorrow? Tristan grinned and said, “I do, did you want to see me? It sounds like you’re cooking.”
“I’m just rearranging my kitchen. I hadn’t done it in a while- so, you can come over?”
Tristan hid his disappointment and walked down the subway steps. People milled around the station. He tossed a few loose dollars into a homeless man’s cup. “Uh, probably. Listen, what if I take you on an actual date? Like to the movies or I cook you a nice dinner.”
Ava’s breath was heavy through the speaker. Tristan shifted his weight to one leg and said, “Ava?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. I don’t know- I’m always busy and nights work better for me.”
Tristan watched as the train came rushing into the station. “I know. I’ll take you to dinner, my treat.”
Silence hung between them for a moment before Ava said, “Tristan, I’m not really up for that,” he heard a pot slam onto the counter, “I’m not looking for a commitment.”
“Why can’t you take me seriously?” Tristan countered. He shook his head as the doors to the subway opened.
“Tristan, don’t be upset-”
“My train is here. Talk to you later, Ava.” He ended the call without waiting for a response. He stepped onto the train and was greeted by the approving gaze of a woman that had to be a few years older than Ava. She wore her hair in a high bun, her lips were painted a nude color.
Tristan offered her a smile and eased into his seat. He dragged his finger across his phone screen and a text from Anna lit up his screen, Be safe, sweetie! The photo of Hailey hovered above the text. Tristan slumped into his seat and pressed his finger into the contact info. Her smile lit up the screen. He clicked ‘save’ before he held his finger against the power button on his phone. The photo faded to darkness.
Chapter 11
The razor slid over her skin, and the short, dark pieces of hair that had begun to roost on her legs disappeared. Ava dragged a damp washcloth across her legs with one hand, and smudged bright red, sultry looking lipstick across her lips with the other. Ava slid off of the edge of the tub and tossed the washcloth into the bin.
She grinned as she looked at herself in the mirror. Valeria had finally found room in her schedule to get her seen by her favorite stylist. Her hair fell around her shoulders in soft, highlighted curls. Ava smiled as she tilted her head forward and the silver hairs that usually sat on top of her roots were replaced by a fresh coat of golden brown dye. Ava shook her head. “It’s like magic,” she whispered.
Ava ran her hands over the front of her silk robe. It clung to her breasts, the magenta fabric dipped in all the appropriate places and clung to her curves. Her eyes darted towards the door as her phone rang from the other room. She hurried into the living room and pressed her hands against her robe before she leaned against the door. Tristan stood on the other side of the door, and he sported a frown.
She supposed that he was still pissed off at her for their conversation the other night. She knew that he wasn’t like any of the other guys his age, and that his attention span was far more reliable. He would want to talk about the other night, and Ava was prepared to do anything but talk.
Ava pulled the door open and ushered him inside. Tristan’s backpack fell to the floor, and he pressed his back against the door. His lips formed a thin line before he said, “We need to talk.”
“Can we talk after?”
Tristan sighed and said, “Why do we have to-”
She pressed her lips against his, and his hands came to rest on her back. He groaned and his tongue slid over hers as she pressed her knee in between his legs. She said, “See? Look at how much fun this is.”
“Ava-”
Ava stepped back and tugged on the end of the robe that she wore. It fell to the floor to reveal a lacy, red bra and a red thong. She ran her hands over her thighs and said, “Tristan, I’m not dressed for talking.”
His eyes roamed over her body and a storm of emotions crossed his face. His chest heaved and Ava giggled as he yanked her towards him. Tristan’s hands traveled to the back of her head, and he pulled her to the floor.
“Fine,” he said, in between kisses. “Right here, then.”
A contented sigh fell past Ava’s lips, and she smiled at the woman in the mirror. She reapplied her lipstick and turned around so that her bottom faced the mirror. Tristan hadn’t been careful with the last pair, and a gray pair of underwear clung to her cheeks. She could see Tristan sitting up on his elbows from the crack in the door.
His arms sank into the mattress as he scrolled on his phone. Ava fluffed her hair and stepped into the bedroom. “Do you want something to eat?”
Tristan’s head snapped up from his phone, and he pushed it to the side. “Sure,” he punctuated this with a smile, the frustration that had been written all over his face earlier had been wiped away.
Ava eyes lingered on his phone, she fought with her mind to stop thinking about the way he shoved his phone over to the other side of the bed. What am I worried about? It’s not like he’s going to tell all of my business colleagues about our arrangement. She frowned as she stepped into the kitchen and pulled a wide bowl down from the cabinet. Ava moved over to the fridge and examined a bag of grapes.
She shrugged and poured the whole bag into the bowl. Ava shook her head as she moved down the hall. She pushed the door open, and Tristan pushed his phone away again. An unfamiliar but altogether uncomfortable feeling settled in her chest. She wore a mask of indifference as she eased onto the mattress beside him.
“Grapes?”
Tristan grinned and popped a few grapes into his mouth, he rolled over on his side and said, “So, remember how I told you that I have Sunday dinner with my parents every week? Mom makes this huge dinner, I never miss a Sunday?”
Ava pressed her back against the headboard and nodded. Is he trying to ask me to go to dinner with his parents? Sirens blare in her head, and she said, “You might have mentioned it,” she tossed a couple of grapes into her mouth. “Why?” she asked, coolly.
Tristan chewed on a grape and said, “Well, my Mom has been obsessed over me meeting a girl lately. She likes to throw herself into other people’s business.”